Birds on the Brain

by Hazel Edwards

  Art didn’t understand. ‘Like Mc Donald’s hamburgers?’

  The police officer laughed again. ‘No. A ‘hot burg’ is a burglary where the owners are in the house.’

  ‘Is it a ‘cold burg’ when no one’s home?’ asked Art.

  ‘That’s right son. Now off you go.’

  Hurrying down the steps of the police station, Art noticed the police cars parked with blue lights which were not flashing. Was a police car ever booked for parking in the wrong place? His dad’s truck had been booked a few times. Mum said it was Dad’s own fault.

  Also Mum wouldn’t be happy to hear there had been a ‘hot burg’ near their street. She was always telling him to lock his window or remember his key.

  Out the back of Art’s place was a shed. Inside were lots of paint pots. When he was home, Art’s dad painted walls and doors in their house. But usually he was away interstate, driving his truck.

  ‘Ah. I thought there was some left,’ said Art as he used a screw driver to open the lid on the rusty tin. Inside was a dull gold skin of old paint. Before he packed up his new school bag for the first day back, there was something he needed to paint.

  Chapter 4

  Droppings

  ‘Don’t forget your sleeping bags tonight.’

  Mrs. Tasker’s new class was having a sleep-over in the school hall. Two grades had been joined together to make the new Grade 4/5 T.And Mrs. Tasker wanted her new students to get to know each other.

  ‘What’s the T for?’ asked Mario. ’Terrifying? Like a monster?’ He made a monster face and jumped around like a gorilla. A few students laughed so Mario did it again and again and again.

  ‘That’s enough,’ said Mrs. Tasker. ‘ “T” could stand for many other words or names.’

  ‘Terrific,’ suggested India.

  Mrs. Tasker smiled. ‘Maybe. Keep guessing.’

  ‘Tasker,’ said Art.

  ‘Right,’ said his teacher. ‘Art is good at working out clues.’

  Art had already checked out all the new classrooms. They had signs with the new teachers’ names.

  Mr Zollo’s 6Z was one clue.

  Miss Quenn’s 3 Q was another clue.

  So having 4/5T for Mrs.Tasker’s class made sense.

  Art didn’t mind having Mrs. Tasker for two years. She didn’t make a fuss about his reading. She just loaned him books with lots of pictures. Interesting things like cross country training or spy-kits. Once when he was trying to find out about giraffes, she looked up stuff for him. Today he’d asked for online links or books about training doves.

  ‘I’d like you to have a chance to get to know each other,’ said Mrs. Tasker.

  ‘Why do we have to sleep in the hall tonight?’ Mario was always complaining about something. ‘Anyway, I already know something about India.’

  ‘What?’ asked Liam. He was new and he was having trouble working out the names of students.

  ‘She snores,’ said Mario.

  ‘I don’t ,’ replied India. ’Anyway, how would you know?’

  ‘Your little sister told me,’ said Mario.

  ‘I don’t snore. I’ve never heard myself,’ said India crossly and left, slamming the classroom door so hard the pictures rattled.

  ‘How could you hear yourself if you’re asleep?’ Art tried to work out that problem.

  ‘ Mini audio recorder,’ suggested Mrs. Tasker. ‘Make an interesting science project for someone. Of course, you’d need to find out something new about snoring…if you were doing the experiment.’

  ‘My dad’s a loud snorer,’said Art.’Sometimes he sleeps in his truck when he’s on a long trip.’

  Mrs.Tasker told them about the science contest. Students were invited to enter their inventions or projects.

  ‘How much is the prize money?’ asked Mario.

  Any money making schemes interested him. He was broke again.

  ‘Not much. It’s the challenge.You’ve got several weeks before the closing date,’ said Mrs. Tasker as she sorted out the sports equipment. She stacked balls, bats and witches hats in the carry bag. ‘Take those over to the hall, children. We’ll have a game tonight.’

  Out at the taps, India was swinging her legs. She’d calmed down a bit. ‘I’ve already started my science project,’ said India. ‘I’ve been collecting for months.’She squirted water at Art.

  ‘Collecting what?’ Art ducked, but she wouldn’t tell him.

  ‘Water?’

  ‘No.’

  Only later did he find out. So did Mario. And that’s when Mario wished he’d never asked.

  All day, they were very busy at school. New timetables. New seats. A new classroom to decorate. Art didn’t have much time for solving the case of the missing dove.

  Mrs.Tasker said,’ You might find this helpful, Art.’ It was a book about training bird. With a link to a website too.

  ‘Thanks.’ At recess, Art looked at the pictures.

  ‘Mr. Snip-pets’ fantail might have flown to the sanctuary,’ suggested India. There are other birds on the lake. Maybe the dove joined them.’

  ‘I think someone might have stolen it,’ said Art. ‘There were scratches on that cage. Serena might have flown home. Mr.Snip-pets was too busy to notice her. So a thief took her.’

  But how could she get out of the cage by herself?’

  ‘Maybe she went to the aviary. Then a thief took her.’

  ‘Who?’ asked India.

  ‘I don’t know yet.’

  All afternoon, he thought about birds. Just before school ended, Mrs.Tasker gave them each a sheet of paper. ‘Use this paper to start something new.’

  Mario had made millions of paper planes before. So he folded one and threw it.

  The plane landed on India.

  ‘Get lost, Mars Bar!’ India was designing her latest invention. She liked making things.

  ‘In what way is this plane new, Mario?’ Mrs.Tasker picked up the paper plane.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Listen next time, Mario,’ sighed Mrs. Tasker.

  Meanwhile, Art was drawing a fantail dove.

  ‘Art’s drawing a killer eagle,’complained Mario, grabbing at the paper. ‘That’s not new.’

  ‘Get lost Mario. I’m trying to solve a new mystery.’

  ‘Children!’ warned Mrs.Tasker pushed their way through the front gate

  They were all glad when the bell went, so they could go home and collect their things.

  After they’d pushed their way through the front gate, India walked slowly along the track. Near Mount Street School was a sanctuary with water birds on the lake. Beside the water, Mario was mucking around with his friends. A dog was with them, on a leash. It wasn’t a greyhound so it must have belonged to one of the others.

  ‘Ah!’ India spotted something at the side of the track. She knelt down. Just then, the boys turned around. They saw her.

  ‘Why are you following us?’ they shouted.

  India looked up. “I’m not following you.’

  ‘Then what are you doing?’

  ‘I’m following your dog.’

  She had a bag with her.In her hand behind her was scoop.

  ‘What have you got there, India?’

  ‘Is it chocolate? Can we have a taste? ‘They pushed and shoved. They formed a ring around her .It was hard for her to move.

  ‘Stop it!’

  India often sold chocolate for the netball club.The team was trying to raise funds for a trip to Sydney.

  ‘Give us a taste?’ they repeated.

  ‘No,’said India with a strange smile. ‘You wouldn’t want to eat this.’

  Mario didn’t like the word ‘no’. Whenever people said ‘no’ to him, he just did more of the same thing. Some of the other kids just copied him, unless they could t
hink of something better, and that wasn’t often.

  ‘Give it back. They’re my samples. You’ll be sorry,’ puffed India as she caught up to him.

  Mario threw the bag to Jason. Jason threw it to Liam. The new boy nearly dropped it.

  ‘Liam!’

  Mario reached across him.The bag split. Brown stuff fell on Mario.

  ‘Yuk! It’s ...’ Mario’s face screwed up in horror.

  ‘You’re right,’India said in between puffs. ‘Dog droppings’. That’s not what Mario called them.

  “ My science experiment. For the annual BHP science awards. I’m collecting samples.’

  ‘Unreal.’ Liam stared at Mario who was brushing away the brown stuff. Mario was so shocked he didn’t seem to know what he was doing.

  ‘I’ve spent two months following dogs, looking at their deposits. I’ve been weighing, measuring and then getting rid of the evidence.’ India was proud of her work.

  ‘Unreal,’ repeated Liam.

  What for?’ What did you find out?’ asked Jason. He didn’t know whether to laugh at Mars Bar or not.

  ‘Where does your dog leave his droppings?’India asked Liam.

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t follow him a round,’blustered Liam. For a new kid, he was turning into a second Mario.

  ‘Dog owners should pick up their own dogs’ droppings.’

  ‘They’re just animals. Dogs should look after themselves.,’ said Liam.

  ‘We look after babies,’ India raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Change their nappies you mean?’ Jason said.’ Like my baby brother. No way. Unless Mum makes me babysit.’

  India opened the crumpled and split bag.

  Mario backed off.

  ‘I started the project because dog mess was a problem. Doing the research wasn’t easy. No one has ever written a book on this before.’ India scooped up the brown stuff.

  ‘Are you going to write a book?’ asked Liam.

  ‘No,’ said India. She was having trouble fitting everything back into the torn bag.

  ‘Your auntie writes science books doesn’t she? ‘asked Art.

  India nodded.

  ‘About dog droppings?’

  ‘No. About wind farming.’

  India’s auntie was a professor of engineering. When Tournament of Minds was held at the university, Art helped the professor solve a mystery.

  ‘How do you do your experiments?’

  Although Mario wanted to know, he didn’t want to sound too interested.

  ‘I walked kilometers collecting “data”.’

  ‘You mean dog…er…mess?’ Mario didn’t say the other word this time.

  ‘Yes, I did more than one hundred interviews.’

  ‘On dogs or people?’ Liam laughed at his own question.

  ‘Residents. People who live around here.’

  ‘Dogs live around here too.’

  ‘I’m no good at Dogspeak.’ India was getting sick and tired of silly comments.

  ‘Can’t you speak another language? I can speak Italian, ’interrupted Mario. ‘You can’t.’

  ‘Can you really talk Dogspeak?’ asked Liam who sounded as though he believed she could.

  ‘I’m learning. And I bite too. Woof!’ India was getting cross. She’d spent so long on her science project. Now they were just making fun of her. With her scoop, she crammed her broken samples back into the bag.

  Art tried to show interest. ‘What did the owners think?’

  ‘That dog droppings weren’t a problem. ‘

  ‘Of course. Their dogs go in other people’s yards or in their gardens.’ Mario had noticed that.

  ‘What else did you find out?’ Art felt he should stick up for India. She might never read any clues for him again.

  ‘Dog owners thinks it would be okay to buy a disposable unit.’

  ‘A what?’ Mario was lost.

  ‘A dog toilet,’ said Art quickly. ‘Like kitty litter for cats.’

  ‘Where do you get them?’ asked Liam.

  ‘I’m inventing one. In art and craft this term.” India stood up. ‘Automatic dog feeders drop food out. I’m making something the dog would drop into. I’m going to invent a DOGS-IT unit,” said India proudly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘A DOGS_IT unit. Like a dog toilet.’

  Art thought for a moment. ‘Don’t talk so fast. Mrs.Tasker mightn’t like the name.’

  ‘I thought about that,’ smiled India. ‘Anyway the Health Act says dog droppings mustn’t go in the garbage bin.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ agreed Art. ‘But if people buy cow manure to go on the garden,why can’t dog droppings be used there too?’

  No one had an answer to that question.

  Chapter 5

  The Sleep-Over Ghost

  The sleep-over at school was fun.

  Much later that night, Mario jogged across the oval. They’d had their sausage sizzle. They’d played indoor ball games. And then they told ghost stories.

  Mrs .Tasker insisted on lights-out at 11 o’clock.

  Mars Bar had drunk all the lemonade that was left.

  So, about midnight, Mario got up to go to the toilet.

  Now he was taking a short cut back to the school hall.

  ‘Hey!’ Across the oval, something was bounding!

  Something gold was coming towards him.

  It glowed.

  ‘Help!’ Mario started to run. He dropped his torch.

  The gold thing followed him. It was catching up.

  ‘Help! Art! It’s a ghost!’

  By the time Mario had reached the open door of the school hall, he was really scared, panting hard and running fast.

  A blanket of light came from the open door.

  Inside, most of the children were already curled in their sleeping- bags. A few were snoring.This was one time Mario didn’t stop to complain.

  ‘Art, I saw a ghost.’ Mario shook the sleeping boy. Yawning, Art pushed aside the hood of his sleeping-bag. He sat up. ‘There’s a ghost out there!” Mario was scared. ‘I saw it. And I heard it.’

  Art rubbed his eyes. ‘You’re made Mars Bar. There’s no such thing.’ But Mario was determined to show them. ‘Look!’

  Their noise woke some of the sleepers. Children sat up. Others rolled over. But Mrs. Tasker and the parents sleeping in the kitchen didn’t come out.

  India stared into the darkness. A round glow was moving out on the oval. A circle came away from it.

  ‘There’s a mouth, glowing on the oval.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Come and see for yourself,’ Mario dragged Art by his tracksuit sleeve.

  In the dark, a mouth shaped like a smile but without a body was bounding around.

  Art struggled to his feet. Getting out of the sleeping bag in a hurry was hard. He stared into the night. Pinpoints of light from the highway could be seen. But from the direction of the oval came a moving glow. A luminous mouth!

  ‘Oh,no!’

  Art opened his arms.

  The thing came closer.

  Art grabbed at the ghost.

  It barked. Art couldn’t stop laughing.

  ‘Got a torch? Look. This is your ghost.’ Art shone his torch on the panting, gold mouth of Tiny who was not Tiny. He was a very big dog. And he has a big, gold, luminous mouth and nose.

  ‘Tiny! You dumb dog!’ shouted India. ‘What have you stuck your nose into now?’

  ‘It’s not his fault,’ admitted Art.’I painted his green tennis ball. The one I found on the oval.’

  ‘But he glows!’

  ‘Luminous paint,’ explained Art. ‘Dad had some left over when he painted his golf balls. Mum wouldn’t let him use that paint on the house. She said it would invite burglars.’

  �
�Ace,’ muttered Mario. ‘Tiny chewed the ball. And he played ball. Now he’s got a mouth that glows.’

  ‘It’s not poison, is it?’ asked India anxiously.

  ‘No. Dad said it was okay to use,’said Art. ‘So Tiny doesn’t need glasses. He can find the ball, even in the dark.’

  ‘Tiny is brilliant,’ said india. ‘Then she laughed. ‘He’s so bright, even his mouth glows.’

  She pulled out her camera. She took a shot of Tiny’s mouth.

  ‘What d’you mean?’ Mario didn’t understand.

  ‘Bright. Like clever. Brilliant. Get it?’ explained Art. Sometimes his mind worked like India’s .But not when she wrote things down. Then it was too hard working out the words.

  ‘D’you think birds have brains?’ Art was thinking of the dove. ‘Could they be brilliant?’

  ‘Just birdbrains,’ Mario laughed. ‘Hey. I said something clever. Get it?’

  India clapped ,slowly, watching Tiny sniffing around the barbecue where the sausages had been cooked. He didn’t seem to hear the clapping.

  ‘Perhaps he’s going deaf.’ India looked worried again. ‘D’you think he needs a hearing aid?’

  Mario and Art looked at each other. ‘No!’ they said together.

  ‘What’s all this about?’ said Mrs. Tasker’s firm voice behind them. ’With noisy children like you, nobody can sleep.

  Art wondered if Mrs. Tasker just pretended not to hear at times.

  Next morning it was so hot the sunlight hurt like needles in their eyes. Art crammed his cap on. This cap was one of the 365 caps he’d won in the Suncream Dream competitions. One for every day of the year. And that was only the third prize. Last week, he’d filled in an entry form for the pet food contest. He wrote Tiny’s name. Then he wrote ‘guard’ as Tiny’s job.

  A thought struck him. Was getting sunburnt a problem for dogs?

  ‘Hey India. Got something in my bag for Tiny. Here.’

  ‘Sunnies?’ India was puzzled. ‘Do dogs wear sunnies?’

  Mario laughed. ‘Why not? Maybe Tiny should wear left and right indicators. Then we’d know which way he was going.’

  ‘You can say that again,’ nodded India.

  So Mars Bar did.